Searching

Searching

She stepped carefully across the gravel that filled the lot behind the abandoned building. Her eyes flicked from side to side, searching between the broken cars and machinery that littered the surrounding area, searching for any sign of him. She had scoured the entire town for any account of a sighting, any tip as to where the villain may have been. This location had been her first lead— a sighting reported by a gentleman in ragged clothes who had since migrated to the other end of town. She moved as quietly as possible, on the very off chance that someone was around this part of town at this time of day. It was the evening, about six o’clock, rush hour was over and the working class had already returned to their homes. This part of town was mainly abandoned anyway, the only intact buildings around had weathered for-lease signs and most businesses had long since moved on. She desperately hoped to find something, anything here that could aid in her mission. The man she searched for had so far proven himself to be a ghost— not a trace left or seen anywhere.

That wasn’t going to stop her though.

She peeked into an old truck bed, and her eyes zeroed in on a piece of clothing that had been discarded in the corner. It was the most out-of-place article that she had encountered so far. Temporarily, poorly-contained optimism clouded her senses as she reached for the dark blue fabric. Too late she heard the crunch of rocks underneath the heel of a boot. Too late she tried to spin around, only for her body to be slammed into the tailgate of the old red truck, her outstretched arm now twisted painfully behind her back. Before she could finish the groan that escaped her lips when her stomach collided with the rusted metal, a second hand reached and grabbed the large knife she had sheathed at her hip. She attempted to crane her neck back unsuccessfully as her concealed weapons were one by one removed from her person by a skilled hand that worked quicker than she could process. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she attempted to thrash and kick back at her assailant. Her free arm tried desperately to claw or reach for any remaining knives. Unfortunately, the figure behind her held strong and worked fast, their now-free hand tangling itself into her hair and pushing her head down, erasing any chance of catching a glimpse of its owner. Her mind raced now that her protections had disappeared and she was clearly outmatched in strength. However, her rapid thoughts froze immediately after a voice spoke behind her.

“Looking for someone?”

She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. She knew better than to get excited at a stupid piece of cloth. She had training and yet she had managed to be bested in a matter of seconds.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt once again as the figure pressed up against her back and warm breath met her ear.

“Cause I don’t appreciate people sniffing around in my business.”

No.

There’s no way this was him. This was just supposed to be a lead. She was not prepared to actually encounter anyone yet, let alone him. This was supposed to take months maybe even years…

And yet she had found him.

No. He had found her.

The hand in her hair yanked back before releasing and returning to pull her other hand behind her back, attaching her wrists together with the zip of a plastic tie. Before she could think of using the opportunity to twist around and use her legs to her advantage—however stupid that may have been now that she was unarmed and her opponent was now definitely not—she was manhandled back by her wrists and forced onto her knees by a swift kick to the back of her legs. Gravel dug into her skin through her pants and she gritted her teeth.

A sudden anger surged within her. She had just let this happen. Why didn’t she fight harder? Why didn’t she know someone was behind her? She should have scouted the place out faster, been more prepared for a fight. Truth was she was too stunned to do anything. She was unprepared and all of her opportunities were lost.

She took in her new situation. Weaponless, on her knees in unfamiliar territory with an unknown assailant.

“That was way too easy for someone who’s shown as much tenacity as you. You just couldn’t let it go, could you? You knew you’d find nothing and yet you continued to look. I’m sure you were warned, so why? Why search for a ghost whose notoriety means only certain death for you?”

She stayed silent, her eyes trained on the ground. She didn’t dare take her sights off the grey rocks. If it was really him, he couldn’t know who she was. Why she was here.

Not yet at least.

“The way I see it, you must have a damn good reason for coming here. And by here I don’t just mean this side of the tracks. So I think I’m gonna meet the person in front of me, whether you like it or not.”

Still, she didn’t provide a response. Even as she sensed him stepping closer.

“After all, you could have fought harder.”

And DAMN him. She knew she could have. She knew she should have…

But he was right. She had a damn good reason. Because he knew everything.

Everything she needed to know.

She fought the urge to slam her head into his at his whisper in the close proximity. He seemed to have sensed this by the twitch of her neck in his direction.

“Trait number one: smart. That move would definitely not have earned you any points. I believe I sense a bit of feistiness in you too. I like it.”

The hand returned to her hair and soon her face met the ground, her nose crunching with the gravel as blood began to trickle down her face without her hands to break the fall.

“But you know what I don’t like? People who don’t listen when I speak. I said, ‘who are you?’”

The force on her head multiplied and she turned her neck so that her mouth could suck in much needed air. A knee pressed into her back, keeping her down.

“You technically never said that, and I am smarter than to answer that anyway,” she forced the words past her lips in a manner just short of a chuckle.

“Definitely feisty. Smart-ass may be more accurate.”

His grip lightened and she was pulled back upright by a strong hand clamped on her shoulder. In front of her, a view was revealed of the sun dipping below the trees across the lot, the sky turning a fiery orange at the horizon. Each object around the lot cast a long shadow in the evening light, each stretching out towards her like they wished to envelop her in their darkness.

She almost wished they could.

But she had finally found what she was looking for.

Now what?

“So Ms. Smart-and-feisty, to what do I owe the pleasure of being the object of your obsession?”

The Point (Captured)

“First of all, I’d like to start us off with a big ‘fuck you.’”

The villain had been quiet for way too long, sitting in that chair across from the hero just staring at them. It was quite frankly unnerving, and the hero wasn’t going to stand for it. Well, technically they weren’t going to stand for anything, considering they had just woken up tied to a chair, but the point still stood (unlike the hero of course).

“What makes you think you get to start us off?” The villain asked, amused. They didn’t change their position, still sitting casually across the room with one ankle crossed over the other thigh, aside from the smirk that now spread unapologetically across their face.

“Your utter lack of manners for one,” the hero began, “For two I would say the absence of a gag in my mouth. For three, that stupid face you’re making that was practically begging for me to break the silence first.”

“My lack of manners? I hardly remember calling your face stupid,” the villain retorted, mock offense lighting up his eyes.

A fair point, but one the hero would ignore nonetheless.

“And I don’t remember kidnapping and drugging you and letting you wake up in an undisclosed location tied to a chair while I stare at you without saying a word for ten whole minutes!”

“Ten whole minutes huh? I don’t remember putting a clock in this room.” The villain made a show of looking around the walls, which were disturbingly bare. The villain really hadn’t put much of anything in this room, let alone a time piece.

“Maybe I was keeping the time by counting your number of blinks. The world knows there’s not much else to do in here.”

The hero rolled their head back, stretching their neck and letting out a therapeutic sigh.

“My apologies for not entertaining you enough.” The villain stood and swept an arm out theatrically. “I’ll be sure to remedy that for future captives.”

The hero rolled their eyes before leveling the approaching villain with a dead pan stare.

“Why am I here, Villain?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” they drawled, but spared the hero any dramatic circling around their chair.

“Yes, that’s why I- Hey! What’s that for?!” The hero sounded equal parts startled and offended as their eyes flicked from the knife held in the villains hand them back to the villains face.

“You are a prisoner you know. And I’m a villain,” the villain mused, entertained but also annoyed by the hero’s lack of a fearful reaction.

“And you haven’t even asked me anything yet! Since when do you partake in pointless torture?” The hero strained to sit up taller in their bonds, genuinely affronted by the villain’s behavior.

The villain flicked the dagger through their fingers.

“Pointless? The point would be fun, my dear hero,” they chuckled, looking down to focus their eyes on the blade.

“Sadist.”

“Masochist,” the villain shot back, smiling.

“Okay yeah, maybe a little,” the hero relented, but no shame showed on their face as they produced a smile to match the villain’s.

They always were a fun pair.

Too Many Beds

(Reverse Trope: Too many beds, as seen on @out-of-jams )

Context: Hero and Villain forced to work together and need a place to stay for the night

Hero had been sent back to the car to gather their things while Villain booked them rooms for the night. Refusing to use a readily available luggage cart, Hero pridefully piled several bags across their body. They held two in each hand, two more were strapped crossbody–one resting on each hip for balance–making them so wide they would have had to step through the lobby door sideways. That is, if they could open the door in the first place, considering their hands were full and this hotel was sketchy enough to be skirting the ADA.

When Villain came back outside with only one room key, Hero could only hope that there would be two beds awaiting them behind shoddy wooden door.

Image their surprise when they unlocked the door to find not one, not two, but three beds clad in all-white linens.

Villain, ignoring the gobsmacked hero, pushed all the way into the room and made a bee-line for the bathroom. In a rather fittingly-villainous move, Villain had refused to relieve Hero of any of their cumbersome stuff during the trek up to their second-story room. The hero finally gathered themselves and their bags enough to step into the room, throwing villain’s bags on the far bed, placing their own bags on the bed closest to the wall, and sitting themselves on the bed in the middle. Immediately feeling their aching joints relax, hero fell back into the plush dramatically. They contemplated the merits of stealing some of the extra pillows to transfer to their bed before a light bulb lit up over their head. After a moment’s consideration, they stood up and started pushing the center mattress towards the one on the wall.

Mega Bed. First come, first serve.

“Hey! I got that one for me,” yelled an incredulous voice behind them. Apparently, Villain was back from the bathroom, and they were very very jealous of Mega Bed.

“You don’t need two beds!”

“Neither do you!”

“Sure I do!”

To punctuation their point, hero belly-flopped dramatically onto their claimed, enlarged sleeping arrangement.

“If you wanted more room to sleep, then you should have booked a room yourself!”

“What kind of motel has rooms with three beds anyway?!” Hero’s question was muffled by the comforter as they held their ground starfished face down over the blankets.

“This one does,” stated the villain from what sounded suspiciously far from his allocated regular-sized bed on the other side of the room.

“Obvishushlee,” the hero mumbled in reply.

“…”

The hero recognized this as a dangerous silence. The silence of plotting.

“Look, we can be adults about this-“ Hero was cut off with a yelp as they were dragged by the ankle out of Mega Bed and onto the questionably-clean carpeted motel floor. Villain attempted to step over them, presumably to claim Mega Bed for themselves, but Hero caught onto their ankle in a grand feat of revenge, thus preventing Villain from crawling into the rumpled sheets.

Hero would not give up Mega Bed without a fight.

As Hero and Villain tumbled on the ground, knocking over the lamp and accidentally turning the TV to the Spanish channel in the process, a stroke of genius hit. Hero grabbed Villain by the back of the shirt, stalling their scramble for the bedpost, playground-king-of-the-hill style.

“Stop! Stop-,” Hero shouted, then added placatingly, “I have an idea.”

And thus the Super Mega Bed was born.

I write for myself, the little word goblin in my head, and my three tumblr followers

The hero and the villain is cuddling

Villain held the Hero in their lap, on the bed, in their bedroom. Surprising, I know. They sighed softly, burrying their face in Hero's hair.

"...You've changed me, Hero. You've made me see things differently, made me reconsider my path as a villain. You know, I used to revel in the chaos and destruction, in being the bad guy" Villain spoke lowly, a smile tugged on their face as they looked back on the years.

"But now... now I don't know if I can go back to that. Not when I have you."

The hero tilted their head up to meet Villain's face with a smile. They turn around on the bed so they were meeting Villain's face, placing their hands on Villain's chest.

"Id appreciate if you change your ways for the better but... Honestly? Ill accept anything, from your worst to your best. everything. You could burn the world and I'd still let you in my heart the next day..as much as I hate it" The hero spoke, meetin Villain's sharp green eyes as Hero chuckled.

Hero was laughing, Villain thought. Laughing and smiling and safe in their arms. True genuine happiness, they couldn't believe their luck. Hell, they couldn't believe their fate! It was so far different from when Hero tried to stop him. The fierceness and determined look, not that Villain was complaining, changed to this..vulnurable love.

Villain would be damned before something ever happens to their Hero.

Song inspiration :

Vigilante was running.

It’s logical thing to do, really, when the man who is currently trying to take down a seven story building somehow comes to think you ruined his plans. You didn’t-they didn’t-really, they just happened to be inside the building when it happened. Not quite as a coincidence though; they did know that the villain was going to be turning the local office building into a pile of rubble that afternoon and they were there for that reason, they just weren’t going to stop him. Reduce the causality count sure, but Vigilante could do that on their own by pulling the fire alarm-like they did. They did not summon the heroes or publicly humiliate the would-be bomber by switching out the detonator with a children’s toy.

They just happened to be peeking around the corner of the hall when he menacingly pulled out the toddler telephone during a stand off with the responding hero.

And really- who wouldn’t laugh when a man about to flip a dead man’s switch for an explosion instead triggers the cocomelon theme song?

Unfortunately for this vigilante, laughing is a dead give away when spying. They had locked eyes with Villain, nothing but murder in his gaze when he whipped his head back and saw the vigilante crouched in the office. Realizing how this looked and taking the cue, Vigilante had bolted.

Down the hall, around a corner, to the left, through the doors, down six flights of stairs, around the back, through that door-

Oh fuck.

Apparently, there was a faster route to the sidewalk outside and the villain had taken it. There was no time to be impressed, however, nor was there time to be terrified. Vigilante quickly scanned to their left and right. Left looked clearest, and they shifted their weight to-

“Oh no you don’t.”

Suddenly their back was pressed against the rough brick of the still-in-tact offices.

Fuck he was fast.

They were caged within a second, flailing to no avail. They kicked, went for the knees, ankles, crotch. Nothing. They grabbed for a switchblade in their pant’s pocket and got nothing but pinned wrists for their troubles.

“You,” he started, stopping to transfer both wrists to a single-handed hold above the vigilante’s head. He continued after using his free hand to pull out the now-broken toy, “think this is funny?”

The vigilante almost chuckled again when the crushed telephone he held up started to play a rather demonic-sounding rendition of the children’s song. Almost.

They silently swallowed in the spirit of self-preservation instead.

The villain dropped the remains to the ground thoughtlessly, instead using that hand to initiate a grip on Vigilante’s throat.

If they were ever going to say something to their defense, they had better do it now before they lacked the oxygen to form coherent words.

Vigilante took one last look in their peripherals to see if any hero would be coming to their rescue. There was no one.

“Oh we have time. Hero is rather…occupied. A little distraction.” Villain smiled. The vigilante thought they smelled smoke. Well it’s a good thing they already tripped the alarm.

“It wasn’t me,” Vigilante spoke with a touch of all-too-real desperation. The grip on their neck was tight but not yet restrictive.

“Bullshit.”

“I pulled the fire alarm. That’s it.” The vigilante silently begged for the man to believe that they did not, in fact, have a death wish. They did have a cat to feed, after all.

They had only wanted to get the workers out, not get choked to death next to some freshly-planted trees in front of a parking garage.

Occupational hazard, they guessed.

Villain studied them, hand flexing seemingly unconsciously as he weighed their defense. He was hesitant, which was understandable. Vigilante wouldn’t necessarily believe themselves here either.

When he didn’t let go, Vigilante added recklessly in a whisper, “I hate coco melon.”

The vigilante didn’t expect a laugh, but they also didn’t expect their throat to be abruptly released. The villain leaned back slightly to study them a little more. By the grace of someone, he seemed to believe them.

“You were still messing with my shit,” he pointed out, which was true enough.

“Just to get people out. It wasn’t gonna stop you.”

The villain answered only with silence.

“Someone has to pay.”

The vigilante answered with a silence of their own.

“Tell anybody what happened,” he paused for dramatic effect, maintaining harsh eye contact with the vigilante as he continued, “and they’ll find your corpse trapped in a room with a screen playing cocomelon on loop.”

Vigilante shivered. A scary threat indeed.

Villain stepped back, and Vigilante was shocked. Maybe they didn’t need to worry about the fate of their furry friend after all.

“If it was you, don’t think you can hide from me. You’ll wish we had finished this now.” The murderous gleam returned to the villain’s eyes, but it was no longer directed at Vigilante. They immediately felt sorry for whoever was about to incur his wrath next.

They started running again before he could change his mind.

Besides, if they had pulled something so bold, they certainly wouldn’t stick around to be seen and connected to it. They would watch it play out safely, from a distance. Preferably through an untraceable camera. Not that they would do something like that. …definitely not. Vigilante wondered who had, though. No suspects immediately came to mind, or none that made sense, anyway. For now, they just admired the guts it took to pull that off. They had a proper laugh when they got home, away from the danger of being choked or annoyed to death, and close to the now-full silver bowl on the floor.